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Lipstick

By: sdwpthwlkr



I tried to close my eyes against the sunlight glaring through my bedroom window, but it was no use. It cut through my eyelids like a laser beam, making me pull the blankets further over my head. Normally, I don't have a problem with mornings. But then again, normally, I don't go out and get plastered the night before either. A once every few months thing, I did it to blow off all the stress I managed to pick up. There were two small, tiny items going for that morning though. 

One, I could remember everything that happened the night before, and I didn't go home with anyone. For that, I thanked whatever cruel gods who came up with vodka in the first place. Two, it was a Saturday morning, which meant I could nurse my hangover in private. Contrary to popular belief, my misery does not like company. Running my tongue over my teeth felt like I was licking mossy bark. Added to that was the taste as if someone had poured an entire bucket of cigarette butts in my mouth. Wet cigarette butts. To say that I was not in my best shape that morning truly would have the epitome of understatement. However horrible I might have felt, I still need to crawl out of bed and into the shower, among other details. Details such as my bladder having a 12 round boxing match with my kidneys.

Peeking my head above the covers, I pried one eye open and peered blurrily at the small bedside clock. Squinting, I let out a small sigh. It was definitely too early to be dealing with this, but my bladder, somehow sensing I was about to get up, began pounding. Slowly pulling the blankets off, I got myself first to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Then, through sheer willpower, stood on two very wobbly legs. Stumbling to the bathroom in my little one bedroom apartment, I braced myself for the moment I turned on the light. I knew full well it was necessary, but I also knew I would want to claw my own eyes out for a few seconds. Flipping on the switch, bright, white light slammed through the tiny room and straight into my head. Barely biting back a screech, I found the toilet through mostly closed eyes and half-stumbled, half-fell towards it.

Once my bladder was satisfied, I turned to the shower. Getting the water going, I adjusted the temperature. As I stood there with the water running over my body, I briefly considered dropping a toaster in the tub with me. Nah, not a good idea. My ex would have been too grateful. Finishing up, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed for my towel. That's when I noticed it for the first time. Lipstick. A perfectly printed note on my mirror in lipstick. Deep red, almost maroon, it stood out starkly against the clear surface of the mirror. My mind quickly ran over the details of the night before. I had gone to a local bar, gotten drunk, and had taken a taxi home. By myself. No one lived with me, so where did this from? My head swiveled back and forth, trying to see if anything was out of place. Nothing. Everything was right where is should be. Except for the lipstick. Letting out a short breath, I studied the message written on my mirror, growing more confused as I did so.

"From the corner of your eye,

You see me dark and fair,"

That was it, nothing else. Written in a female hand, the letters were precise. My face showed through the spaces of the letters and I could see the puzzlement in my eyes. Who had done this, and why? Wrapping the towel around my waist, I made for the front door, only to find it locked, just as I had left it the night before. This was entirely too strange for me, especially today. Heading back to the bathroom, I grabbed glass cleaner and some paper towel, intending to make short work of the message. When I came into the bathroom however, a new surprise greeted me. The lipstick was gone. Not a trace remained on the mirror. It had simply disappeared. Fully confused now, I decided I must have imagined it. That was the only explanation that fit. A hangover hallucination. I didn't know if such things existed, but it sounded good to me.

The rest of the day drug by as I tried to get over my suffering. At odd times though, the memory of that lipstick message played through my mind. Toward mid-afternoon, I couldn't take it any longer. I grabbed my keys and coat and walked out the door. I decided to hit the mall, do a little window shopping, maybe take in a movie. Anything to put the lipstick out of my mind. Pulling into the parking lot, I caught a flash of deep red hair from the corner of my eye. The same shade red as was on my mirror that morning. I whipped my head around to look, almost causing an accident. The owner of the hair had moved out of my sight however. I decided the incident earlier had me all wound up over nothing.

Throughout the next week, life returned to some semblance of normal. No new messages appeared on my mirror. Every so often though, I thought I caught a glimpse of red hair. When I turned, it was gone. Several times it happened that way. Otherwise, life was firmly back in reality.

II

I slept in that next Saturday. Not for fear of waking, but rather because I had nothing better to do. Rolling over, I came face to face with my alarm clock. Groaning, I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. Looking around my room, I thought maybe, just maybe, my friends and what little family had were right. I hadn't had a girlfriend in way too long. Girlfriend, hell, I hadn't even had a woman in way too long. Not that I had been looking. I couldn't find anyone who attracted me. Sighing at the futility of my thoughts, I levered my self off the bed and made my way to the bathroom for my morning ritual.

Getting there, my hand hesitated for some reason on the light switch, a rare sense of premonition flooding through me. I peered into the darkened bathroom, trying to see the mirror. From where I stood, everything was dark. Damn, my imagination was working overtime and dragging my common sense along for the ride. I had to quit this. I flipped on the light and to my relief, no message was waiting for me. So it was my imagination. Turning the shower on as hot as I could stand it, I stepped under the spray. The stinging water helped to wake me up and by the time I was finished, I felt really good about the day. When I pulled the shower curtain back, it was there to greet me. Deep red as before, in a precise female hand. Lipstick on the mirror.

"But when you turn to look,

I am no longer there."

What the bloody blue blazes? Staring wildly, I knew I had checked the damn thing before my shower. Moving close to the sink, I carefully reached out one hand out to the touch the writing. Lipstick smeared on my fingertips and I gazed in wonder at it. My sight traveled back up to the mirror and before my disbelieving eyes, the message began to fade until there was nothing left. Not a trace. Nothing but my own face looking back at me. Slowly, I dropped my gaze and looked back at me fingers. Red still stained them, giving me proof, at least in my own mind, it really had happened. Grabbing my towel, I stumbled out of the bathroom and into the living room, searching for something to write with. 

Finding a pen and a scrap of paper, I jotted down the first message. Under that I wrote the one from that morning. Just as I thought. It was a poem. One that I had never seen before. Settling back on my couch, my towel draped across my lap, I stared at my fingers and let my mind wander. Who was doing this and why? I thought of all the females in my life. None of them would, or even could, do this. The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. After gazing at the ceiling and getting a headache from attempting to get a grasp on this, I gave up and got up. Back in the bedroom, I dressed and headed out the door. Maybe I should look into buying myself a watchdog? Doberman pinscher perhaps? Something that could rip a person arm, or head, off? Immediately after that thought came another, it wouldn't do any good. Whoever had it managed to do it while I was in the shower less than 5 feet away. Between that and the rather neat trick of making it all disappear as I watched. Almost casually, I glanced down at my hand, not really surprised to see the deep red staining my fingers.

My stomach growling, I figured the best thing I could do was find a restaurant and get something to eat. I knew just the place to go. On the way there, I stopped by a convenience store and picked up a pack of cigarettes. I hadn't smoked in over 5 years, but right then, I didn't care. I needed the nicotine rush.

The waitress showed me to a table towards the back of the smoking section. As I sat and split my attention between studying the menu and studying the Saturday crowd, I busted the cigarette pack open and pull one paper coffin nail free. Placing it on my lips, I lit a match from the book I snagged at the convenience store and inhaled a deep lungful of smoke. The buzz was tempered by a short coughing fit. It had been too damn long. I made up my mind on what I wanted to order and sat back to enjoy the cigarette, checking out the crowd through the smoke as it curled upward toward the ceiling. Typical for a Saturday. 

The older crowd in to get the early bird special. Families in here so mom and dad wouldn't have to cook. From the look on their faces, though, the aggravation wasn't quite worth the time out of the kitchen. I chuckled to myself and took another drag, feeling the heat spread itself out from my lungs. From somewhere off to my side, I heard a woman laugh. A deep throated laugh that brought to mind images of bedrooms and naked bodies pressed together. A sensuous laugh guaranteed to excite and tease a man just so. I looked around for the source of the laugh and saw a flash of red hair and part of one creamy smooth cheek. Then it was gone. Abandoning my table for few moments, I pushed through everyone else trying to spot the woman. It was no use, she was gone again.

That night, the dreams started. At first, I couldn't remember too much of them. Only bits and pieces. A flash of red hair in a moonlit background. The delicate curve of a woman's smiling lips, coated in deep red lipstick. Slightly upturned nipples as she dropped her blouse. The heat of our bodies pressed together. Myself inside of her, pouring out everything I kept hidden. A feeling of ecstasy, but also a feeling of pain and having something drained from me. The pleasure was worth it though. I woke, sweating under my sheets and shivering at the same time. For some reason, I had a difficult time getting back to sleep. The dreams continued on this way for the next week. Every night I would wake under sweat-soaked sheets.

III

By the next Saturday, I had almost convinced myself I was going insane. No way this could be actually be happening. Mysterious messages appearing and disappearing as if by magic on my mirror. The night before, I went to bed, but tossed and turned the entire time. My mind refused to let me sleep, knowing what I would find there. And I was still catching glimpses of that dark red hair. The Saturday sun had risen hours ago and was shining brightly through my closed window shades. Fear coiled tightly in my lower stomach as I thought about what might be waiting for me in the bathroom. The more I considered it, the more I came to see if I just avoided the bathroom for this one day, I would be fine. 

Even if some kind of message was waiting for me, I couldn't read it if I couldn't see it. Finally, I screwed up my courage and rolled from my bed to start the day. Not even glancing in the general direction of the bathroom, I padded into my kitchen in just my boxers. Fixing myself a cup of coffee, I watched the day begin to unfold out my back window. The sky was a deep blue with a few small clouds floating in the distance. Sipping at the hot liquid in my mug, I could see kids playing in the sparse woods which populated the area behind my apartment building.

Walking into the living room with my cup still over half full, I punched the button on my stereo, filling the room with the sounds country music. Guitars, fiddles, and harmonicas blended into one melody. I stood there for a few seconds before realizing I was getting chilled standing there in just my underwear. I set my cup down on the coffee table and started back to my bedroom. Passing the bathroom, I noticed the light shining brightly under the door. The light was off when I went to bed, I was sure of this, and I had not set in there all day today. With a curious sense of detachment, I watched my hand come up to push the door open. Part of mind shrieked at me to stop, but my body wouldn't respond. Instead, it stepped into the bathroom. Try as I might to look away, my eyes were guided to the mirror. There it was, dark red and glistening in the stark light, contrasting against the clearness of the mirror. I trembled slightly as I read the words written in a deep shade of lipstick.

"When you come to believe I'm not real

And your imagination thinks as such,"

My head spun and the room tilted around me. My legs turned to rubber and I sank to tile floor, not noticing the cold in my shock. As I stared slack-jawed at the mirror, the words again faded until they were just a memory. The same way they did the week before. All I could think was, why me? What was this all about? I sat there on the bathroom floor for an untold time before the cold finally seeped through my shock. I climbed unsteadily to my feet and barely made it to the bedroom before collapsing on the bed. All I see before in front of me were those deep red words and flashes of deep red hair. My dreams came slamming back into my mind with an uncontrollable force and my physical reaction was obvious. Obvious to the point of being painful. Reality was slipping through my fingers and the only thing I could do stand there and watch it go.

Taking a breath, I tried to regain some self-control. My legs still somewhat rubbery, I managed to pull on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Hazily remembering my jacket and keys, I stumbled out of my apartment and almost fell down the stairs before catching my self. One of my neighbors saw me and asked if I was feeling alright. I mumbled something about working too many hours and started down the stairs. Emerging into the sunlight, I breathed deep of the fresh air. The world around me seemed to be it's normal everyday self, but underneath I could sense something else. Something different. What it was I couldn't tell, but it was there. Almost touchable. The taste of it was on my tongue like the tang of metal. The fog lifted from my mind slowly and I walked from my building at a brisk pace. Out of every place I knew, there was one I could go which was close and offered peace and quiet. So it was with that idea in mind I climbed the library steps three blocks later.

The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of old books and knowledge. This was one place I felt at home in. I wandered the stacks, not really looking for anything in particular, just looking. Every once in a while, I stopped to read the back of a book that caught my eye, but invariably I would put it back and move on. What I was really trying to do was get mind off the lipstick, the mirror, the woman with red hair, the dreams, all of it. A few times I was able to forget for a couple of moments, but it always came back, sneaking back in when I wasn't looking. After over an hour there, I had wandered the aisles two times over and was about leave when I felt someone brush by behind me. I heard a deep, sultry female voice say, "Excuse me." That voice. It was the same one from the restaurant, from half a dozen chance encounters where I never saw her face. I spun on my heel and caught the site of the back of her hair as she rounded the corner, her bottom swaying beneath a pair of tan slacks. I hurried to follow her, but as I was about to round the corner, I ran into the librarian. She was a woman who had been at this library since god was in pre-school. She fixed me with a baleful stare and proceeded to lecture me about running in the library. All the while she was talking, I nodded and edged around her until I had a clear shot at the door. I walked as fast as I could and burst out into the sunlight. I looked everywhere, but like all the other times, she was gone. I swore softly to myself and wondered how long this would go on.

That night, the dream was more erotic than ever. When I tried to wake from it though, it held me in a grip of iron. Her breasts pressed against me. Her lips, that color of dark red desire, ran over my chest. Her buttocks glowed softly pale in the subtle light. Her hair caressed every part of me, teasing me to a hurtful excitement. I felt as if my skin were on fire and my entire body would explode. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, she edged me up another notch. I had never felt anything as sensual or erotic as this and I knew if I didn't wake soon, it would kill me. I felt a scream of ecstasy and agony welling in my throat when she leaned over me, her hair brushing my face, and whispered she would see me soon. I came to with the scream still inside of me, sitting straight up in my bed.

I couldn't concentrate all the next week following, the dream intruding on my daily life. If it wasn't the dream, it was the woman herself appearing, then disappearing. Every time I looked for her, she seemed to fade into thin air. As the week wore on, I began to dread what Saturday would bring.

IV

Friday was always a good day for work, even with the black cloud that was hanging over my head. Spirits were lighter on Fridays than any other day. I managed to make it through the day without thinking too much about Saturday. Each time I did though, the fear which had become so familiar to me clenched in the pit of my stomach. Reality itself was a tissue I could almost see through were I to look hard enough. By the time the work day was through, I had decided to stop by at my apartment just long enough to change then spend the night at a hotel. I couldn't face the idea of seeing that red lipstick the next day. I wanted to believe I was still as sane as the next person. But with all that had happened, I couldn't be sure of my own sanity. Pulling up to my apartment, I glanced without meaning to at the small window in my bathroom. The glass was dark and no light shimmered from within. I repressed a small shudder and breathed a sigh of relief.

Once inside the apartment, I hurried to change and leave. Stopping briefly on my way to the bedroom to check my messages, a grand total of one from my mother, I made the bedroom in almost record time. I quickly stripped and headed to the bathroom, knowing my visitor wouldn't be here until the morning and I would be long gone by that point. The shower felt wonderful, anchoring me to what little sense of reality I still had. I turned the water off and reached past the shower curtain to rescue my towel when my hand brushed someone else's. Someone soft and feminine. 

I whipped the shower curtain aside and caught a glimpse of red hair flying around the corner of my bathroom door. I jumped out of the shower and lost my balance as my wet feet slipped on the tile floor, driving my knee into the floor with enough force to make me wince. I half-crawled out of the door and pulled myself up along the frame. Standing there dripping wet and still nude, I knew I had missed her yet again. Banging my hand against the wall in frustration, I hobbled back into the bathroom searching my towel. I felt the stubble along my cheek with one hand and glanced in the mirror to see if I needed to shave when my legs went numb. I fell against the wall as my eyes registered the fact she had been here early, as if she knew what I had planned. Glistening darkly on the mirror was the same dark red as before. The shock flooded through my system as I read the words before me.


Lipstick



Author's Note:  This story was written for a Litster and I hope you enjoy it as much as they did. I was honored to be allowed to write it. Comments/Suggestions always welcomed. Thanks again "N" ~ Red. 

*

The morning sun woke the woman that had been sleeping with her head tucked into a down-filled pillow covered in a blue-plaid case. She opened her blue eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. Her fingers came away with some of the shimmering dark-purple powder she'd worn the night before as well as a few streaks of black eyeliner and mascara. Legs that were average in height, but far from average in beauty stretched out and flexed sleep-worn muscles. Toes curled as slim arms came out to run fingers through bed-tangled strands of jet black hair.

Her back arched and the matching bed sheet slid down her full breasts and settled on her hips. The spider tattoo lay nestled between porcelain globes and her rose-colored nipples peaked from the sudden loss of heat. A moan escaped full lips. Her lipstick was long gone from a night of erotic play. Sarah smiled up at the mirror on the ceiling and noticed her companion from last night's party was still sleeping soundly. She watched him roll to his side and the sheet fell slightly further from both their bodies. 

A thought crossed her mind, an old line from some joke an American friend told her "Lipstick on your dipstick." She'd always thought the line was silly and ridiculous, but now as she recalled the "dipstick" in question she found herself quite enamored with the saying. She eased out of bed. Her small feet landed quietly on the plush carpet. The tip of her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips and she took a quick breath. She held it as she tiptoed to her clothes. 

Very carefully, breathing in small quick spurts, she lifted her black, leather, corset dress and picked up her small pouch. With red-tipped fingers she reached in and pulled out her tube of matching lipstick. Sarah loved to be noticed. She enjoyed the way she stood out in a crowd. Her jet black hair, usually left to hang just past her shoulders was almost always a mess, but she didn't care. Her clothing was often tight and revealing, accenting her curves as well as on some occasions giving a teasing glimpse of one or both of her areolas. She was a good girl for the most part, though last night she hadn't been. The wicked gleam in her eyes grew as she lathered the color of sin onto her lips before carefully laying her purse on the floor.

As she made her way back to the bed, she watched Kieran roll to his back and she stopped. Sarah held her breath until her lungs hurt and then she slowly released the pent up air. She waited as if her very life depended on whether the man in bed woke up or not. When he didn't move again, Sarah did. She closed the distance between her and the bed and crawled back on. Inch by inch she moved. Her pearly teeth bit down on her flaming red lips and when she reached Kieran's hips she took another deep breath and exhaled while moving the sheet lower. Deep blue eyes flickered from the covering, to his face. Every movement she made was calculating and each one brought her closer to her goal. 

When the cover was eased away, she paused and waited to see if he would move. He did, but not much. A soft sound of excitement left her lips. Sarah grabbed her hair and quickly knotted it. It stayed off her shoulders. She slipped slowly down until she was eye to eye with his hip. Sarah ran one fingernail down the front of his cock and watched his face. Nothing happened and she smirked. 

They'd gotten plastered last night. Everyone at the party had. This morning though, Sarah had several things going for her. Kieran had gotten throughly fucked by her and she by him so he was exhausted. The party was at his home, so they were in his bed. The door had been locked last night when they retired to conduct their play in private, so she was temporarily guaranteed that she'd be uninterrupted. Finally, Sarah didn't know it yet, but Kieran slept like the dead. He was at her mercy and Sarah loved it. 

She ran her finger over the morning wood again, this time tracing the tip and the small crevice at the top. His sex jerked and she quickly looked to his face. Again he didn't move, his breathing never changed and his sleep lay undisturbed. Inwardly she giggled and shimmed closer to his sex until she was supporting herself on her elbow. There the real test began.

Sarah ran her tongue over her lips and lowered her head to his swollen sex. She placed a soft kiss on the shaft and looked up the length of her lover. Kieran's lips parted, but nothing else happened. His eyes didn't flinch nor did the knowing dimples that would appear when he was smirking or laughing. She opened her mouth and licked the spot she'd kissed. Again nothing, but the natural reflexes of his cock jerking against his stomach. 

Carefully she slipped her hand over his stiff tool and lifted it from his slumbering form. Her eyes stayed locked on his face as she guided his dick to her red lips. She opened her mouth and eased his sex into the warm blanket of moist tongue and pearly teeth. Here, she paused again. Her pussy ached from the torturous play she was forcing herself to go through, but she wanted to see how far she could take him before he woke up. 

She eventually moved and took him deeper. Sarah settled herself carefully against his side and began to suckle him gently. Her tongue pressed tenderly against the front of his cock head. The satiny feel of her lips may have been lost on Kieran's vision and his thought process, but it was not lost on his swollen shaft or his tightening balls. Her mouth lifted and then fell again, never fast, but always slow and teasing. Up and down. She fought the urge to move quicker and won, rewarding herself with the rolling of her tongue across his mushroom head and then down again. 

The pre cum leaked freely and she swallowed the drops as they escaped or were allowed to flow down to her lips, where she slid them back up and eventually drank them. Her lips moved from the perfect "O" to the raised corners when she smirked thinking of her success. She refused to increase her speed. She knew she was bordering the edge now as she watched his brow furrow. He wasn't awake yet, but the chance to wake up was there. She stilled her movements until his face relaxed, then she began again. 

Sarah teased him until it was too late. She watched his groin tighten and his body reacted on instinct and reflex. His come spilled out, but since her mouth had enveloped him the entire time, his seed was her morning meal and not one drop fell onto his skin. She suckled every spurt and when he was done releasing his morning juice, Sarah held his softening cock in her mouth, until she was ready to release it. Her lips traveled up the now limp weapon, eventually she allowed it to lay against his flesh and she stared down at the base. 

Her lips spread wide in a grin and she licked her lips as she tasted his come and stared at the red ring at the base of his sex. The red lipstick had left its mark to bear witness to Kieran that he had indeed slept through a blow job. Streaks of the red waxy cosmetic coated his dick and Sarah giggled softly before easing off the bed. Her pussy was slippery with juice and she needed relief from her play. She lay down on the floor and ran her hands down her stomach and plunged two fingers into her slippery cunt. 

"Mmm..." she groaned, no longer worried if Kieran woke up or not. Her other hand moved to her right nipple and she began to pinch and tease it. As she did, she bucked against her fingers and rode her palm hard while she scrapped the sides of her pussy. 

Kieran heard the sound of someone whimpering and for a moment his thoughts were disorganized. He opened his groggy brown eyes and then closed them as the morning light poured in. He ran his hand down his chest and over his stomach. His fingers brushed against his cock and he stopped the perusal of his frame and opened his eyes again. He looked down at his limp penis and saw the glistening beads of what was apparently come and saliva. "What the?" he asked himself. He then heard the moan of what was obvious pleasure coming from the floor of the bed. 

He looked to his cock again and noted the bright red coloring that circled the base as well as small streaks of lipstick that coated the surface. He smirked and shook his head. "Damn," he muttered he rolled to the side of the bed and gazed at the vision of Sarah finger-fucking herself. 

Kieran watched for a few moments and could tell by her breathing she'd be coming soon. He noted the smeared coloring on her face. He knew it had been because of her cock-sucking needs that had raged through her. 

"Get up here and let me return the favor," he said. 

Sarah's eyes opened and her lust-filled stare locked with his. Her chest rose and fell. She pulled her fingers free and offered them to him. He grabbed her wrist and hauled her up to the bed. His mouth captured her honey-coated digits and he washed them clean before allowing her to settle herself on the bed. 

When her head hit the pillow and her legs fell open Kieran was there. "I don't know how you did it... but thank you," he told her as he stared at her sweetness. 

"You're welcome," she winked. 

Kieran looked up the length of her and his cock started to rise again as he took in her throughly fucked appearance from last night's play and her smeared red lips from this morning's surprised gift. He thought it only right to return the favor so when he raised his brows at her, Sarah knew she was in trouble. 

His hands pushed her legs further apart. He kneaded the muscles of her thighs as his firm fingers made their way up to her silky lips. Trails of wet kisses were soon following the paths that he'd traveled with caressing touches. He kissed her right thigh then her left. He bit the soft flesh and then sucked on it. Each leg was teased and taunted until he reached the succulent source of her scent. 

"Kieran," she hissed.

He chuckled and placed one finger against the top of her cunt. When he dragged it down, she bucked up and curled her fists into the sheets. "Oh fuck," she hissed. 

Kieran laughed and repeated the action, this time using the opposite motion and sliding not only up, but deeper. He continued to do this as he slowly parted her puffy lips. The aroma that tickled his nose was intoxicating and he brought his other hand up to join in the play. 

Each hand rested on its own lip. He opened the petals of her sex. Her breathing increased as she waited for what was coming. When she felt him blanket her pussy with nothing but hot air she cursed and screamed for him to fuck her. 

"You took your time on me Sarah... don't you want me to take my time?" he asked in a mocking tone. 

She growled, cursed, and shouted, "NO!" 

He rammed three fingers into her cunt and began to fuck her hard and fast. His mouth came down to cover her clit and he suckled on the strip of hot flesh. His tongue crashed against the rippled surface, scrapped each side and then coaxed it to his teeth. He gnawed gently on her while his long digits continued to impale her. The tips pressed against the fleshy sides of her pussy and more fluids flowed freely, only to be lapped up by his tongue when he took the time to release his toy. 

Sarah released the sheet and sat up just enough to grab his head and curl her fingers into his hair. "Kieran! Don't stop... oh, fuck baby, don't stop!" She gasped for air as she pushed his face into her and felt her toes tighten around the soft covers. Her body suddenly stiffened and her back arched. Her hands flew from his hair to hers and she pulled at the sweaty strands that were littering her face. The knot she'd tied in her hair was long gone and raven silk fell down her shoulders. 

Her come flowed thick down the sides of her cunt and Kieran removed his fingers. His mouth covered the dark opening and welcomed her nectar. Every salty and sweet taste she delivered was a treat and he lavished his tongue and face in it until she was withering beneath him. He washed away the warm cream and sat back. His hands gripped her hips and he rolled her to her belly. 

"Mmm...," she purred as she scooted her knees up and lifted her ass into the air. Her elbows supported her and when she felt the head of his dick press against the hole of her pussy she rested all her weight on one elbow and her knees. Her hand reached down and she spread her cunt lips open and eased back onto his swollen member.

"Oh Sarah," Kieran moaned as he slid his shaft into her. She was a small woman, not petite, but short. Her pussy matched everything about the diminutive minx. It was tight and hot. He pushed deeper. "Fuck baby," he muttered. 

Sarah hissed and forced her ass back, taking the remaining inches of his sex. She felt the texture of his pubic hairs and then when he started to drag his dick out and then slam it back into her, she felt his balls slap her ass. Her hand left her lips and went on to rub and stroke her clit, once more it was slick and wet with desire. She rubbed it feverishly before abandoning it in order to pull and twist her nipples that swayed from her breasts. 

Kieran had been gripping her hips and forcing himself in and out of her for several strokes. He freed one hand and brought it down on her ass. The slap was hard and Sarah gasped in surprise. She pushed back harder. He slapped the cheek again. "Oh fuck, yes! Harder...oh God, fuck me harder... spank my ass... Kieran...," she begged and pleaded. 

He delivered several more slaps to her while he fucked her. His come boiled and he felt his balls tighten. He pulled his cock out and covered her ass with his seed. Sarah felt the warm fluids flow down her ass and she purred in pleasure as her orgasm erupted and spilled over onto the bed. As he rubbed his nectar against the crack of her ass, he leaned over her and whispered. "We're fuckin' there next." 

Sarah smiled and rolled to her back. "Oh... are you planning on a next time?" she asked. 

Kieran grinned back, "Maybe." 



Lipstick



You walk into the bedroom after work to find me laying on a single white sheet on the bed, our comforter and pillows stacked on a chair. A soft light is lit, and our favorite mix of sexy songs is playing.

As our eyes lock, I smile.

"Take off your clothes and join me, gorgeous."

Your smile widens as you immediately comply. You kick off your shoes and remove each sock. As you shrug off your jacket, I admire your shoulders, wide and strong. I can't take my eyes off your hands as they unbutton your shirt.

You notice me looking and slow down, making each movement deliberate, delicious. I roll onto my side, resting my head on my hand as you teasingly strip for me. I am amazed by how much you turn me on with this simple act. Just the sight of you.

As you bare your upper body, my eyes graze over your chest, and follow the path of your hands down your torso to your belt buckle.

I longingly lick my lips as I watch you unfasten the trappings of the business world, leaving them behind to enter the world I have created this evening for just the two of us.

As you step out of your briefs, I can see that you are ready for an evening of fun at home.

"So, what's on the menu tonight?" you ask. 

"A little artistic entertainment," I reply. As I pull out a few tubes of red lipstick, I explain.

"I want you to paint me; decorate my body for your pleasure."

Your eyes light up and I continue. "I want to be your work of art, your palette."

Grinning widely, you take the lipstick from me as you sit on the bed. I lay back, looking up at you. Your eyes roam my body, as if unable to decide where to begin. As you reach my face again, I can see you have made a decision. You take a deep breath.

"I have always wanted to do this. Open your lips for me, just as you would if you were applying your own lipstick."

I part my lips as you lean down and carefully apply scarlet color to them. The feel of the stick against my lips, stretching them a bit as you firmly apply the rouge, is quite sensual.

When you finish, you move your head down closer to my breasts to analyze your efforts.

"Not bad for a first try." You are so close I'm sure you can hear my heart beating.

You smile slowly and move up, kissing me gently at first, then again, more intently.

Your tongue slides into my mouth, tasting the color you applied and my lips themselves, causing my heart to beat faster still.

The taste of you is almost a metaphysical sensation, your spicy breath closing on mine, the amazing wetness of your mouth. I reach up to embrace you, to pull you closer to me, trying to drag you into me, to make our bodies one. 

Your tongue dances around mine, teasing and tantalizing me, making me melt inside before you pull back and away from me. I gasp at the loss of you and glance up. Your eyes are soft as they look at me, and a small smile hovers around the corners of your mouth. Smears of my lipstick outline your lips as well, making them even more sensual to me.

"I could very easily get distracted and take you right now," you say, "but an artist must have discipline."

You reach out and run your index finger along my jaw line, holding my chin between it and your thumb and tilting my head off to the side. I close my eyes, wondering what you are up to, but ready to experience what you offer. 

I feel the tip of the lipstick touch me lightly, then with more pressure in the tender spot just behind my earlobe. It rests a moment, then begins to swirl out from there, down the side of my neck, over my collar bone, ending between my breasts.

It is amazingly erotic to feel you drawing on me in this manner. The slight chill of the cooled lipstick, the tip dragging across my tender skin, the faint trails of waxy color left behind, all combine into an experience I have never felt before.

On my chest, I can feel you draw a heart, and color it in, and I smile up at you, opening my eyes to watch you. As I catch your eyes, you wink at me, then return to your work, an expression of concentration on your face.

In two quick strokes, you circle each breast with a line of color. You dab a little color into each nipple, using a fingertip to smear it in, rouging my areolas to a deep rosy red. My nipples harden instantly under your touch, bringing a slight smile to your face.

You lean down to gently kiss one, then the other, your tongue quickly flicking out. You look at me. "This is as much color as I will be using on your breasts. I plan to taste them completely, and I want nothing interfering with my enjoyment of you."

I smile at you, knowing nothing needs to be said.

Still working in swirls and sweeping stokes, you add some decoration to my upper chest above each breast. Dots, lines and circles begin to fill in the space on my pale skin. Again sitting back to critically assess your work, you reach out with your thumb and forefinger to roll a deep pink nipple, stiffening it even more, and eliciting a sigh from my lips.

Gliding your color wand across my torso, you decorate me adoringly. Raising myself to my elbows I watch your movements and love the rapt fascination I see radiating from your face. I smile, feeling that even without lovemaking this night is a success.

Circles, swirls and dots; they cover my torso now as you begin to embellish my hips and upper thighs. Running out of lipstick, you open a new tube, working your way down my legs.

Watching my body become less familiar and more exotic with every sweep of your hand brings a rush of intimate feelings. You are making me less myself and more an object that belongs to you, totally and completely. A canvas for your whim.

Gently, you spread my legs apart, continuing your embellishments.

The color is spreading across me. I look at my legs as if they are the red painted legs of a woman from some faraway land. It is a primal feeling, and I feel moistness between them.

You leave a wide swatch of bare skin around my pubis. The color swirling everywhere makes the bareness of my breasts and mound stand out as even more decadent, as if the rest of my body is nothing but a frame, a display for the sexual parts of me. A tightness clutches at my belly, a feeling I recognize and attribute to your presence.

You continue your design down even to the tops of my feet. Scarlet vines explore beyond my ankles, as if reaching for my toes.

Sitting back from me and taking in my body with one glance, you add a few touches here and there, then look at me.

"I want you to stay still. Do not move until I return."

Curious as to what you are up to, I just nod and watch you rise and walk out of the room.

When you return, I see you have the digital camera with you.

"I want to remember this. I want a souvenir, and most of all, I want you to see your body right now as I see it."

I smile, and lay back, stretching myself out on the sheet for you. You snap a few shots, checking the screen until you are satisfied, and bring the camera over to show me.

I inhale sharply. The photo includes my full body, from my neck down. Because my face is not visible, the anonymity is shocking. It is like a photo of someone else. A sensuous, primal woman, decorated for the sacred act of love. My eyes fly to your face.

Your expression is a mix of amusement, satisfaction and a deep carnal desire I feel mirrored in my own body.

You turn off the camera, setting it aside.

"Roll over onto your stomach carefully. Disturb my work as little as possible. Once you are turned, I need you to stay very still as I complete your back. Will you do this for me?"

"Yes," I breathe.

As carefully as possible, with your hands guiding me, I roll over onto my stomach, sinking into the support of the mattress, my legs slightly parted.

I feel your hands running down my back, exploring me as you might a block of stone before carving. You brush my hair away from my neck and back, exposing me to your gaze.

You begin work quickly, as if you have an inner vision that you are simply channeling onto my skin with your movements. I feel you drawing on my shoulder blades, first the left and the right, cover most of my back with a design I cannot see, but feel with every touch.

As you finish your work there, you move to the nape of my neck and begin a long sinuous line down my spine, ending at my tailbone with a spiral I can feel you draw. More curlicues and shapes drawn on my back slowly push me into a reverie, a half-doze fantasy of being a mighty queen being painted and decorated for her wedding night by her favorite slave.

I am brought back to reality by the clicking of the camera. Click, focus, click.

Again, when you are satisfied, you bring the camera to me, to show me my body as your masterpiece.

Great wings sprout from my shoulder blades, folded down against my sides, the tips brushing the tops of my buttocks. Curls of color dance across my back and thighs. Every inch of skin is transformed into a swirling fantasy, leaving my buttocks completely bare, white and exposed.

The contrast of color and bare skin serves only to highlight the sensuousness, lushness of that female form pictured. My body.

Again, you set aside the camera. As you do, I see the effect this has had on you. You are rampant, standing tall and strong before me. I can see the flush of desire in your cheeks and the gleam of your eyes. I smile slowly.

Your smile is one of hunger as you reach down and lift me up. I make a sound of protest for just a moment, and you hush me with a finger to my lips. "There is no more need to be careful. We have our record of this evening. I want you." 

I relax. This evening is, after all, for you.

I let you pull me up to a kneeling position on the bed, as you stand on the floor. You pull me to you in a strong embrace, at once tender, yet full of rough need.

Again, your lips press into mine, and I suck wildly at you, my need rushing over me like a tidal wave. With a hand on my ass and another twined in my hair, you lay me down on the bed, climbing over me, on all fours above me. I can feel your erection bouncing against my hip as your mouth explores mine.

Your hand slips out from behind me and fingers trail across decorated skin to cup my mound. I moan quietly into your mouth as I feel you touch my wet heat. My hips raise to meet you without thought, and I wrap my arms around your back, kneading and scratching you lightly.

You hold your hand on me, still except for the movement of your middle finger, sliding with excruciating slowness up and down my slit, causing my lips to open to you, inviting you inside of me.

You break the kiss, pulling back and glancing down at my body once more before lowering your mouth to a breast.

You suckle at me greedily, your tongue flashing wildly around as you nibble and suck. I arch my back, trying to push myself deeper into you. You pull your head back, drawing my nipple up and away from my body, stretching me out.

Your lips leave me with a loud "pop," as you turn your attentions to my other breast, growling softly as you lower yourself to me again.

I realize suddenly that your hand has been moving gently on my cunny, causing my hips to grind into your palm. I can feel your fingers sliding through my wetness, and my clitoris is beginning to hum.

I reach down with one hand to grasp your firmly, sliding up and down your silky hardness. There is a drop of wetness leaking from your tip. I gather it onto my fingers and bring them to my mouth to taste your salty pre-cum. I lick your essence off of me, and wet my hand with saliva before reaching down again.

You groan against my breast as I touch you again, and slide my hand up and down, slicking your cock with my spit.

You release my nipple and your eyes bore into mine with a ferocious intensity. "I want to be inside of you. Now."

I bite my lower lip, smiling slightly and nod. "Yesssssssss."

As you lift yourself, I feel you dip your middle finger into me, sliding it all the way in, then back out again. Your smile is hardened with lust as your hands wrap around my hips and lift me onto you, sliding into me in one long stroke.

I can feel my wetness coating you inch by inch, as I feel you fill me, complete me.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh yes," I exclaim.

I feel you sink fully to your root, your balls slapping my bottom, reminding me of the color on my flesh. I wonder what I must look like to you now, laid out below you.

You begin to slide out of me, pulling out with agonizing slowness, until just the tip of you remains inside. As you pause there, I begin to rotate my hips against you, circling the head of your cock inside me. I can see the skin around your eyes tighten as you feel me, and you plunge smoothly back into me up to your hilt.

This time, your withdrawal is not slow and teasing. You begin to stroke me steadily, holding my hips in place, pulling me onto you as you push into me.

Every time you begin to pull out, I clamp down on you with my vaginal muscles, trying to hold you inside me. I can feel your response as your hands tighten on my body.

The room is warm, and I can feel a light film of sweat forming on your skin. I run my hands along your back, massaging you as I rock with you. I love the feel of you inside me, close to me, fucking me.

I lose myself in the feel of you, and I am startled when I hear you let out a growl. I look up to see you watching me. Your eyes shift for a moment and your hands leave my hips, sliding around my back and gathering me up to your chest, lifting me from the bed, holding me tightly. I wrap my legs securely around your waist, locking us together.

You hold me close to you, so tightly that I can barely breathe. I melt into your arms and sigh. You hold me still like that for a few moments, then begin pulsing yourself in and out of me in the tiniest of increments, just enough to create a small kernel of warm sensation and make it grow deep inside of me.

I begin rocking on you, my face buried in your neck, feeling tender and incredibly hot. In this position my clit is grinding against your pelvis, lending additional sensation to our lovemaking.

One of your hands leaves my back, sliding down to my bottom, lifting me against you. I let my head fall back as I feel your pace begin to increase in time with our need.

Loud moans and gasps escape both of us.

"Oh god, I want you so much," you say.

"Take me," I reply.

You increase your tempo, plunging into me with determination, taking all that I have to offer, holding me close to you as you claim me.

"Cum for me, Heather. I want to feel you."

You know me so well. You know I have been waiting for you. At your words, I begin to let go of control, and ride the waves of passion you are creating inside of me.

I begin to shudder on you, my pussy spasming as I cry out. At the first rush of my juices, I feel you jerk inside me and let go, filling me with your seed. My orgasm goes on and on each pump of your prick inside me taking me further and further, until neither of us has more left to give.

Gently, you lower us both wearily to the bed, never leaving me as you cuddle me close. Your hand moves to my hair and you breathe in deep. My hands massage your back, feeling your strength ebb into relaxation.

We must have fallen asleep, I realize as I wake with a start.

My movement rouses you and you open your eyes to look at me muzzily. I lean back a bit and take in the scene we have created. My body covered in color, your body smeared with your artistic efforts, the white sheets around us now rumpled and stained with wide swaths of scarlet.

I see you looking around as well, and I grin abashedly. You smile back at me, a wicked gleam in your eye and say, "Well, um... I think perhaps a nice hot shower is in order." 



Lipstick is for Lovers



I had decided this was to be an adventurous weekend before I left town. I had just broken up with my third boyfriend in less than a year and it was time for a change. So here I was, alone in San Francisco and I never leave town alone. In addition, here I was, sitting in the bar of my hotel alone something else I never do. It was still early, the bar was quiet, and I'm sure just to pass the time the bartender was talking to me. 

The bar had a Japanese theme to it and although she wasn't oriental, the barkeep was discussing the different kinds of sake they carried. I noticed she was a lovely girl and wondered to myself what she was doing on that side of the bar and after my third sake sample; I was just brash enough to ask her. She shocked me by saying she found it easy to troll for women when she worked the bar and then shocked me again when she informed me I was sitting in a gay bar. I mean I was in San Francisco and I knew there were many gay bars here but until she mentioned it, I hadn't noticed what few customers there were paired off by same sex. 

I told her I thought she was too beautiful to be gay and after realizing what an insult, saying that was, I apologized to her. First, she laughed saying she was a lipstick, and then she leaned over the bar and kissed me. The only thing I could think to say was,

"Are you trying to pick me up?" 

Her answer was, "Do you want me to?"

She left to go wait on a customer as I sat there wondering just what my answer to her question was. When she returned she had yet another sake sample for me and was in the process of telling me it about when I interrupted,

"Can I answer your question now?" 

She looked at me as if she had forgotten what she had asked,

"I do want you to pick me up."

I said it too loud and the couple two seats down turned to stare, embarrassing me. She put her hand on mine and gave me a reassuring smile,

"Give me your room number and when I get off duty I'll give you a call."

She told me her name was Gwen, I told her my name, and as the bar filled, she had less and less time to talk. Around ten, I waved to her and went up to my room.

What had I gotten myself into, I mean I may have had a few fantasies of girls, yet only in college had I'd ever acted on them. As nervous as I felt I still felt excitement and I knew my panties were getting wet and the more I thought on it the wetter they got. I must have fallen asleep or maybe even passed out from all the sake but the room phone woke me with a start.

"Hello Joanie, its Gwen are you still awake? If you want I could come up or if you rather we can go out."

I told her to come on up and maybe we'd go out later. If this was going to happen, I couldn't think about it first.

When I opened the door, the smile on her face relaxed me and I knew I could go through with it. She kissed me right away and I returned the kiss with fervor. Although we had a certain sense of urgency, she took her time and let the passion build. Even so, she had me naked before I admitted that I'd hardly ever been with a woman before. She smiled and told me she knew that the second she kissed me at the bar.

She had me lay on the bed and then as she sat astride me she began to kiss my neck and shoulders working her way to my naked bosoms. I stopped her momentarily asking her to take her clothes off, as I wanted to see her body. Without thinking, I began to work my finger into my cleft to ease the itch. I watched as she undressed feeling the heat rise inside me. I soon realized how much her work clothes hid her truly voluptuous body. Her breasts were perfectly shaped with her nipples standing out with pride. Her flat tummy made me fell frumpy and the more of her I took in the more embarrassed I became. She saw my look of discomfort and told me she liked her women soft and as she stroked my flabby stomach, she said I was turning her on.

She climbed back on top of me cowgirl style and I could feel the wet of her sex on my body. I was becoming so turned on I told her I wanted to taste her now. All she said was 'as you like' and moved up to straddle my face with her thighs. I put my face in the middle of her sex and I knew that was what I had been missing from my life. I devoured her sex and then moved my mouth to her clit. When she told me she was cumming I felt a since of pride and accomplishment. I worked another orgasm out of her and then it was my turn. I was already so excited I climaxed with just the touch of her tongue as I watched this beautiful woman put her face in my most private place. 

After, we dressed and went out for breakfast. At a little coffee shop, I told her she was the best I'd ever had and that I wasn't sure if I could ever let some bumbling man between my legs again. She laughed and said she had felt the same way after her first time with a woman. Yet when I asked her if I could see her again, she hemmed and hawed and I could tell she was giving me the brush off. Finally after asking if she could be honest with me she said she only liked one-night stands and that was why she worked the bar at the hotel. With all the transient customers, she had a better opportunity for this. 

The next day I flew back home with the reality that either sex can break your heart. However now I knew I could broaden my horizons and I was positive the next person I kissed with passion would be wearing lipstick. 




Lipstick Lady



This story is based on a real incident. It happened - most of it anyway. If by any chance the real Sabine reads this and remembers I would like to hear from you. I'd love to hear from any woman who finds it a turn-on or has experienced any exciting incident on a train journey. I welcome your feedback ...

* * * * *

Midnight. A hot August night. Koln Hauptbahnhof. Gleis 5. Cologne's main railway station. Platform 5. The last local train down the line. A slow.stop.at.every.station.on.the.line.train. Engine shut down, everyone quietly waiting for the hands of the large station clock suspended above the platform to click round to 00.05.

I have boarded. I am sitting on one of the end bench seats of a carriage. There are six pairs of high backed bench seats facing each other, three pairs on each side of a central passageway. The seats are covered in moquette. Everything is clean and functional. This is Germany.

The lighting in the carriage is suitably muted for the late hour. It is the fag end of the day. The sands are draining fast from the weekend hourglass. Tomorrow everyone is back to work. Early. This is Germany.

There are only three other people in the carriage. All singles. All sitting silently, waiting. I have my end of the carriage to myself. The seats across the aisle are empty.

I gaze out of the window. Outside on the platform a man and woman while away the last few minutes before the train leaves. He in dark, swarthy, medium-build, middle-aged, moustached, a foreigner, but neat, urbane and well-dressed. She is dark haired, in her thirties, wearing a thin jacket over a light summer dress. High heels. Their conversation is friendly, smiling but polite.

I idly consider their relationship. Newly acquainted, not-yet-lovers after a first date? A minor diplomat and a newly acquired mistress. A clerk in a small embassy and a call girl he has been enjoying for the evening? They are certainly not brother and sister.

She is slim and attractive, shoulder length hair fashionably crimped and highlighted. Everyone seems to be going for the same style these days. Even Ginny.

Virginia Richards, Ginny, is a woman on the management course I'm helping to run in a suburb of Bonn, to which I'm returning after a weekend away. She's a buxom woman in her late twenties. Large shapely arse, big soft breasts, wide, full mouth and a jutting jaw with a pushed out lower lip. Long brown hair crimped with blonde streaks, parted in the middle and falling down either side of her face. When she talks, she tilts her head and sweeps her hair away from her face with her hand. The action draws attention to the pushed out lower lip. Occasionally the ends of her hair catch on the wetness of that lower lip and the tip of her tongue comes out to touch the hair before blowing it away. It's a habit which gets a man thinking ...

Ginny is married - unhappily married - to Bernard. She doesn't know whether to leave him or not. She sighs when she talked about it. She has taken to hanging around me. 

The first week of the course ended on the Friday lunch time to let those who wanted get away leave for the weekend. It had been a tiring week. Too much alcohol-fuelled socialising. Too much work. Too little sleep. I was nervily, jumpily shattered and had refused to eat anything for lunch. I sucked on a beer, intending to flake out in bed for a couple of hours before a shower and my trip to Cologne where a second course was taking place.

Big soft domestically troubled Ginny with her big soft backside, her big soft eyes, her big soft mouth with its pushed out lower lip cornered me after lunch and asked to speak to me. I invited her to my room. To discuss her problem. I was well aware of mine.

Ginny came into the single room taking one of the hard-backed chairs next to me at a small table and began unburdening herself about her problems with Bernard. She lit cigarette after cigarette. She shared my bottle of beer, She sighed and looked unhappy. Should she cut her losses and leave him? Should she give him one last chance?

I watched the big lips mouth her discontent. I murmured sympathetic noises. I watched those same red lips open to pull on another cigarette. I listened to her voice drone agreeeably on. I watched those fleshy, full lips part to slide the over the top of the bottle as she sucked in the beer. Then, finally tiring of the game, I pulled her head to me and kissed her full on that fleshy mouth. Her lips felt as good as they looked - full, soft and lush. Her mouth opened. We pushed tongues together. Then, sensing the weakness of her protests, I forced her head down towards my hastily unzipped and bared prick, pushing it up with my right hand while my left hand on the back of her head forced her mouth down to meet it.

As soon as her lips touched the tip of my prick her token resistance ended. She relaxed, opened her mouth and began sucking me. The troubled, unhappy spouse became a miscievious-eyed, sly vixen, glancing up at me in delight as she slurped her wet lips and extended tongue along the spongy underside of my stiff prick. I raised the beer bottle to my lips, shifted my lower body forwards in my seat, spread my legs and let her spoil me.

She was wonderful. She licked every exultant pore from the bottom of the thick shaft to the tip. With her finger tips she squeezed the reddened, glistening head, dilating and deepening the hole and pushing the tip of her tongue into it. She gently took first one testicle, then the other, into her mouth. Turning her head sideways she made a warm wet cushion of her mouth and tongue and ran it up and down my shaft pressing it with her hand against the moist delight of her moving mouth. She opened her mouth wide and took the bulging, bulbous end deep inside, her lips stretching half-way down the shaft, all the slippery-juiced, silky-pink, inner flesh and tender, pressing tongue pleasuring my taut-stretched, straining, paper-thin skin. She teased me slowly out of her mouth and cradling my balls in one hand and circling the base of my prick with the palm and fingers of the other she began to lick the underside of the top of the glans with little purring cat-licks, her eyes meeting mine and laughing and sparkling with the wicked enjoyment of it all. She kept up the variations for ten minutes as I slowly squirmed, groaning softly, clenching my buttocks and pushing with my thighs to chase the ecstasy of it. And then led by her lush lips to the brink for the umpteenth time I could hold back no longer and went plunging over the edge after her, groaning 'NOW!, and she, glorying in the wild-eyed helpless madness her sucking and licking had built in me, fastened her mouth on my pulsing prick and bobbed and sucked in feverish excitement and greedily and noisily swallowed the scalding, spurting jets of come which her lusty, sexy art had brought to the boil.

We had no time to do anything more. Bernard was arriving in ten minutes to pick her up for her weekend with the family but when she returns on Monday morning something tells me it won't be long before I'm fucking Ginny.

I close my eyes and imagine Ginny on the floor, thighs spread in welcome to her cunt, spread open above her splendid arse, skirt up round her waist. I lower myself into her and sink my prick fully inside. Her cunt folds round my prick like a velvet glove. Will she still be sighing and thinking of leaving Bernard when my prick is ploughing in and out of her sopping cunt? Or will her sighs mean she is eager for me to spurt hot sperm up inside her?

My fantasies are interrupted by the guard's whistle. Outside the window the couple kiss briefly and she turns and boards the train. She stands by the open window in the carriage door waving as the train pulls slowly away. Then she closes it, turns and walks into the central passageway.

A quick discreet look at me and she sits down opposite me in the middle of the empty bench seat. She crosses her legs, opens her handbag, takes out a cigarette and lights it. She looks out of the window.

I consider her closely. Nine out of ten women would have sat on the benches on the other side of the aisle. Very few would have sat directly opposite me. I am intrigued.

She has a pleasant face, wide and slightly freckled. Her eyes are large, the whites clear as she stares fixedly out of the window. She puts the end of the cigarette between thick lips, inhales and then, leaving her mouth open in a small pout, lets the smoke drift lazily from her mouth. It looks very sexy. Hazy blue-grey smoke exhaled from pouting dark red lips, the tips of her teeth just showing behind her lips.

She shuffles her body, pushing against the back of the seat to snuggle deeper down. The action pulls her skirt back to the top of her knees. She has good legs, long with rounded knees, the sheen of her stockings shimmering even in the low light inside the carriage. As I watch she uncrosses her legs and then recrosses them the other way. I catch a quick glimpse of dark stocking top, white thigh and black strap. She is wearing suspenders. Without moving her eyes from the window she adjusts the hem of her skirt. It hardly moves. It's as if she is drawing attention to her legs. I like her legs. I look at them and begin to lust after them ... I want to reach forward, slide her dress up her thighs, kneel on the floor in front of her, push her thighs apart and lick my way up into the warmth and wetness of her cunt.

While I look at her legs and fantasise about burying my mouth in her cunt I drop my hands onto the bulge of my wakening prick and massage it slowy with the tips of my fingers. I do not want to draw her attention to my surreptitious masturbation. I widen my thighs slightly to put pressure on my prick, making it move against my fingers. She does not move. I get slightly bolder, pressing down on the tip of the growing bulge ... I imagine the shiny feel of her stockings as I move my lips over her legs, my tongue traces its way across the sleek dark band of her stocking top and then as my lips move higher her warm bare thigh presses against my cheeks and my open mouth comes to rest on the sopping wet material of her knickers ... I put my fingers round my prick and squeeze, hoping she will not look round. For some time now she has not moved to draw on her cigarette. I glance up at her face. To my surprise she is smiling gently. What on earth is amusing her out of the window? I turn quickly to see. I catch the relection of her face in the window smiling back at me, before she looks quickly away. The image is as clear on this pitch black night as in a mirror.

I am startled. She has been watching me lusting over her legs. She has certainly watched me squeezing my prick through my trouser front. Her smile signals approval. More, she has almost certainly encouraged my interest by crossing and uncrossing her legs to show me her underwear. The lady wants to play.

Still with a smile on her face she takes a last drag at her cigarette, uncrosses her legs and reaches forward to stub it out in the ashtray by the window. The action slides her dress back up her thighs. She takes her time, making a thorough job of stubbing out the butt, giving me plenty of time to admire her thigh. As she reaches further forward to drop the butt in the cup of the ashtray her near leg falls away exposing her inner thigh and a wide dark band of stocking top.

She leans back, takes off her jacket and settles it round her shoulders. She turns her body slightly towards the window and crosses her legs again, but this time her calf rests on her knee leaving the hem of her skirt high and giving me an open view of her inner thigh. She stares pointedly out of the window again. Then just in case I haven't got the message she pulls the handbag on her lap towards her drawing the skirt higher on her thigh. Her hands go round her bag and her finger tips start moving minutely, almost absentmindedly, against the outside of her exposed thigh. She looks steadfastly at the window.

The train speeds on through the night.

The message is clear. Her casual touching of her leg is telling me I should stroke myself too. She wants me to continue masturbating. And she wants to watch.

I am shaking with lust. I push back against the seat and spread my thighs, pushing my crotch towards her. My prick makes a huge bulge in the front of my trousers. I watch her slowly moving her finger tips as she runs the pads gently back and forth over no more than a centimetre of stockinged thigh. I stroke my prick openly, squeezing it and pushing it forward by flexing my thighs. I base the speed of my fingers on the speed of her own. I will take my lead from her. The ankle of her upper leg flexes and she starts moving her foot up and down to stir the sexual tension between us. Is she masturbating too now, using the gentle pumping of her thighs to put pressure on her cunt?

I move my fingers to the top of my prick and pull on it through the cotton of my trouser front. Her foot skews a wide, slow circle. I manoeuvre my prick so it is as near vertical as it can be in the restricted space of my trousers and massage the tip of it slowly and deliberately, moving my fingers down over the end of my prick, bringing them back up again and repeating the movement. I tear my eyes and from her legs and look at my lap. My fingers are stroking the head of the huge bulge in my trousers.

I want to signal my thoughts to her, to let her know how much I would like to lick her cunt. I part my lips and start licking round them with my tongue. I concentrate on her white thighs ... In my imagination my mouth is once more on the sopping wet silky material of her knickers. They are loose and scanty, hardly hiding her thickly fleshed cunt lips. I pull her sodden knickers to one side and her cunt is waiting for my tongue - all pink folds of flesh and glistening juices ... I put my tongue out towards my nose and lick my upper lip vigorously with the tip.

My message is unmistakable. I want oral sex. Giving and getting. Her response is not long in coming. She uncrosses her legs, unsnaps her handbag and reaching inside takes out a smell mirror and a lipstick. She takes the top off her lipstick, opens the hand mirror and settles back in her seat again. She crosses her legs, again leaving her skirt high on her thighs and starts to put fresh lipstick on.

The performance is mesmerising. She licks round her lips and taking a tissue from her bag dries them. Then she stretches her mouth in a tall '0' shape and begins to apply the lipstick. It is impossible to watch and not think of pushing my prick into her wide open mouth. I pull on my prick ever more boldly. Her body is still angled towards the window, a position which gives me a clear view of her moving, pouting mouth and means she can see the effect of her coquettry by changing the focus of her eyes and staring past the hand mirror into the window to watch me masturbate.

She presses her lips together and then starts on the bottom lip stretching her mouth again so it is perfectly shaped for accepting an erect prrck. I groan quietly but audibly ... I want to stand in front of her, take the back of her head in my hand and force my bare erect prick into her mouth. I want to fuck her mouth ... I close my eyes and my fingers squeeze my bursting prick. I watch through hooded lids as she takes the tissue folds it in two and gently bites her lips on it. I nearly come inside my trousers.

Suddenly the train is losing speed and coming to a halt. A man stands up and takes his case from the luggage rack. He looks at us. The sexual tension of our erotic game must be tangible. I feign tiredness, rub my eyes and stretch my arms. My prick is huge. I dare not look at it. She moves quickly in her seat, covering her legs and reaching for her bag to put her lipstick and mirror away. She takes out another cigarette and lights it, ignoring me.

The man moves down the aisle giving her a quick glance as he passes. He knows something is going on. He alights and shuts the door behind him. I look at her face. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks away. She is quietly smiling again, her eyes twinkling. What now?

The train is stationary for a moment, then moves off. She reaches again for her bag and takes out her purse. Very slowly she unzips the top of the purse, raises it to her face and looks in, puts her fingers in and moves things about as though she is looking for something. Then without zipping it up again she puts it back in her bag and leaves the bag open by her side. To make the message even more obvious she puts her hand down half into the bag and pushing out her fingers and thumb stretches it to the limit and peers in. Then, leaving her bag gaping wide she leans back again facing the window and crosses her legs again, leaving the skirt so high the whole side of the thigh nearest me is now exposed. She is waiting for the second half of the window show to start. And she it telling me what the act should be. She wants to unzip and show my prick to her.

This is going to be dangerous. I don't know what the penalties for exposing yourself on German trains are. But I am now so excited I am past caution. I take my jacket off and drape it on my right thigh. If the ticket collector comes I want some cover.

To provide more cover I take out a large hankie and pretend to wipe a small mark on my trouser front, then leave it lying on my lap. She reaches forward again to put out her tab. While she is doing it I reach for my zipper and pull it slowly down. There is a low rasping noise which she effects not to hear, but a slight smile crosses her face. She settles back in her seat, snaps shut the bag, puts it on her knees and closes her eyes. Her hand moves in her lap. The hem of her summer dress makes responding movements. She is unbuttoning her dress. Then all movement ceases. She is still. Eyes closed. Waiting.

I reach inside my fly and pull out my prick. Since our game was interrupted by the man getting off, my erection has subsided. My prick is thick but only half erect. I open my thighs to give myself more room and as my right knee moves towards her knee, she quickly moves to avoid contact. She is not asleep. She is watching everything through partly closed eyelashes. I put my left hand under my balls and openly masturbate with my right hand, pointing my stiffening prick towards her. Her arm moves and the hem of her dress trembles slightly. She is also masturbating, but more discreetly than me. I look at her face. Her lips part and the tip of her tongue moves out to touch the underside of her top lip. My erection is huge. I put my fist round the shaft and squeeze. The end bulges and goes a deep red. I want to get up and push it towards her mouth.

Then, breaking the intense silence of the carriage, the door at the far end of the carriage clatters open. The inspector walks through, turns, closes the door and announces: Fahrkarten, bitte.'

There is a ripple of activity through the carriage. I cover my erection with my jacket as best I can, reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet and ticket.

By the time the inspector reaches me I am almost respectable. When he punches my ticket and returns it I feel her eyes on me. She is grinning hugely. The train slows again and the carriage is flooded with light from outside. She looks briefly out of the window.

She turns to me. 'Ist hier Bonn?'

'Ja.'

'Tut mir Leid.' (What a shame), she says, gathering her things together. As she gets up to go out of the door, she stops, smiles and says, 'Wiedersehen.' (See you again)

Then she leans forward and pushes something into my hand before leaving quickly through the door.

It is the tissue. I open it. Displayed in deep red lipstick is a perfect outline of her open mouth. My prick hardens in an instant.

I look up through the window and watch her walking away. The train takes off and as it passes her, she turns, puts her hand to her lips and blows me a kiss.




Lipstick Lady



I go straight to the toilet, lock the door, unzip and haul my prick out. I masturbate furiously into the white porcelain of the hand basin. I imagine her mouth round my prick. With my hands moving fast over the taut flesh I shoot sperm into her warm, wet mouth. My prick pulsates, jetting gobs of white come into the basin. My knees buckle and I look at my face in the mirror. My eyes are lifeless and crazed. My jaw sags open. It is the face of a lunatic. I do not know him.

I take the tissue out of my jacket pocket and carefully wipe the sticky come from the end of my prick. I turn the tissue over. On the back in blue biro is a message - 'Sabine XXX' and the start of a telephone number in Bonn. 

My spunk has soaked into the last three numbers and made them unreadable...

Though I keep a lookout for her every time I am in Bonn, I never see her again. But as the years pass I remember her more clearly and with more excitement than if we had fucked.



Lipstick Lesbian Treat



Marla walked down the aisle, feeling her pleated rayon skirt swirling around her legs and thighs as her hips swung seductively from side to side. Her breasts shifted in the tailored blouse she wore, unencumbered by a brassiere, nipples erect and no doubt visible through the shimmering silk. She could feel Jennifer's eyes following her. Ever since Marla had told Jennifer about her secret life, she'd felt the lovely young woman's interest growing. She wasn't certain it was sexual, but she had every intention of finding out. 

There was nothing quite as exciting as seducing another woman, of being the first woman to touch her, to kiss her, to lick her sweet pussy until she screamed. Marla had been seduced like that by a teacher when she was in high school. Some would say what happened to her was a bad thing, that Ms. Carlson should have been arrested and put in jail. But not Marla. Emily had given her the gift of a lifetime, a gift that kept on giving as some famous solicitation campaign once suggested. Marla had been giving and receiving ever since, in the most exciting and satisfying ways. Perhaps she could give Jennifer a little pleasure as well. Wouldn't that be lovely?!

Jennifer was standing at the copy machine, intent on the project she was working at. Marla glanced down the corridor in either direction before stepping into the small room, her eyes quickly returning to Jennifer. She wore tailored slacks, the light gabardine caressingly conforming to the round cheeks of her tight bottom which were thrust into prominence by her high heels. Marla felt a surge of excitement in her loins. On impulse she stepped up to the younger woman and slid her fingers over the lovely curve where Jennifer's slender waist swept out to her rounded hips and pert bottom. Jennifer gasped, her hands suddenly still on the papers covering the top of the large copier.

"Watchya working on?" Marla leaned closer, the tips of her breasts nudging into Jennifer's shoulder blades as she peered over the shorter girl's shoulder. Jennifer started to talk and then paused to clear her throat. Those lovely round cheeks were nestled against Marla's loins stirring juices already flowing between her thighs.

"The Donaldson report." Marla raised one hand and slid it slowly between Jennifer's arm and her side, extending her fingers until they touched the papers in the younger woman's hand.

"I worked on that too." This conversation would have made perfect sense to anyone listening to the women talking. Yet, had they seen Marla's curvaceous body pressed against Jennifer's back, her hand only inches from Jennifer's firm, full breast, they would have concluded something quite other than work was unfolding at that moment. And, of course, they' d be right in their assessment. Jennifer remained perfectly still as Marla withdrew her hand, staring down at the red-tipped fingers turning to lightly brush the side of her breast as they retreated.

"I can tell the project is in good shape." Marla allowed her fingers to once again caress the round curve of Jennifer's bottom, then stepped back to leave. She paused at the door and turned.

"If you ever need a hand with anything, anything at all, let me know." Jennifer peered over her shoulder, her lovely face flushed with either embarrassment or excitement. Marla was confident it was excitement.

A number of women from the office stopped off at the local watering hole that night and to Marla's surprise one of them was Jennifer. Marla often had a drink with her co-workers but she couldn't recall Jennifer ever joining them before. She could barely contain the smile that crossed her face as the lovely young woman walked past the line of men at the bar toward their booth in the corner. As luck would have it Marla was seated by herself so the natural place for Jennifer was next to her. Their eyes met for an instant as Jennifer slid onto the vinyl covered cushion. The two women across from them were reporting the adventures of their day, the usual stuff Marla had heard often before. She listened with only half her attention, her mind and eyes wandering repeatedly toward the lush young woman whose thigh was touching her own. She'd been a little surprised by Jennifer's coyness in the copy room. She could easily have brushed Marla off. But she hadn't moved, she hadn't objected in any way. Even when Marla's fingers brushed against the side of her breast, she hadn't made a peep. And now this, coming to the bar. Jennifer had heard the three women talking about stopping for a drink but hadn't said a thing. Obviously something was going on with her, something that might very well include a dalliance with Marla. She certainly hoped so.

Sidney and Clarice finished their second drink and excused themselves. They were both married and had to get home before their husbands had a fit, at least that's the way Clarice put it as she slipped on her jacket. Marla met both of their husbands at the last Christmas party and felt no jealousy toward either of her co-workers. That was exactly what she didn't want. What she wanted with every fiber of her being was seated next to her at that very moment.

"I think I'd better be going too." They were both still nursing their second drink and hadn't quite found their stride talking with one another without company. Marla turned slightly on the bench seat, the move bringing her knee firmly against Jennifer's warm thigh. Jennifer was peering over at her and their eyes held each other for a moment. Marla allowed her eyes to lower for a moment to the open front of the younger woman's blouse, to the hint of cleavage between those lovely breasts. When she raised her eyes again she saw Jennifer biting her lip.

"Don't look so worried. I'm not going to attack you in this bar." Jennifer's lips lifted into a sheepish smile. It was difficult to tell whether the flush in her face was from the alcohol or this turn in their conversation.

"I'm not worried." Her voice was delightful to listen to. It had a crackle that seemed at once sexy and little girlish. Marla smiled broadly.

"Good." Jennifer swung her head, throwing her long hair off her face. Then she reached up to pull it back, the move causing her breasts to lift. Her blouse pulled tight across the fullness of her bosom. Marla's eyes feasted for a moment, her mind wondering whether the move was intended for that purpose. She had little doubt such a lovely young woman had gotten lots of attention through the years and had probably developed the fine art of seduction long ago. Their eyes met again and Jennifer smiled. She'd put her hair up and was suddenly transformed from small town lovely to big city beauty. She looked almost elegant with her hair piled on the top of her head.

"You know, I have the makings for daiquiri's at home, if you're interested." Jennifer smiled, a funny expression crossing her face. Marla guessed her friend was getting a little playful after her second drink.

"So is this the spider inviting the fly into her web?" She giggled as she spoke. Marla smiled and winked.

"Tell me, do I look anything like a spider?" She slowly moistened her lips with her tongue before winking again.

Marla felt Jennifer's body close to hers as she fumbled with the key at the door of her apartment. The alcohol seemed to catch up with her friend pretty quickly, either that or she was playing the role of the drunk to give herself permission for what she was doing. After their encounter in the copy room, there was no way Jennifer could have come here without expecting Marla to make a pass at her, a serious pass. Marla reached out with her left arm and drew Jennifer's body against hers as she slid the key into the lock. Jennifer made no effort to resist.

Marla reached around her friend and pushed the door closed, the move causing a small collision. The entryway was completely dark except for the dim light from the large windows in the living room at the end of the hallway. Marla knew perfectly well where the light switch was, but somehow that seemed the least important concern at the moment. She turned in the dark, knowing she would find Jennifer standing there. Their bodies collided again and Jennifer giggled. Marla reached out, her arms instinctively finding Jennifer's torso. Her hands drew the warm body close to hers and was quickly rewarded by the feeling of lush breasts pressing into her own. There was a sharp intake of breath followed by fingers taking hold of her arms. Soft skin touched her cheek and she knew it was Jennifer's face leaning against hers. Then the hands began sliding up her arms and around her shoulders. Marla allowed her hands to slide lower, fingers spreading over the round bottom she'd so appreciated that afternoon. She drew Jennifer closer and was rewarded with a sigh as their loins pressed together. She could tell the girl was hot, that despite her inexperience she was open to the feelings of excitement stirred by being with another woman. Marla felt emboldened.

Raising her hands from Jennifer's firm bottom she allowed fingers to play up along the slender woman's torso until they were pressing into the bulging sides of those lovely breasts. Her thumbs slid beneath each mound, then pressed up into the fullness of Jennifer's bosom. Marla felt the fingers relaxing on her shoulders followed by a subtle shift of her friend's body as it leaned back just enough for the thumbs to find engorged nipples. Marla quickly spread her fingers over the heavy breasts, gently squeezing. Jennifer groaned as Marla's fingertips teased her erect nipples through the thin cotton blouse.

Marla suddenly needed light. She wanted to see her partner's eyes when she touched her, to caress Jennifer's lovely body with her eyes as they danced this dance of seduction. She slid her hands around Jennifer's torso and drew her close again before reaching for the light switch.

"Don't be shocked, I'm going to switch on the light." The light was quite dim, but still shocking after the minutes of anonymity in the dark. Jennifer lifted one hand to cover her eyes, whether because of the brightness of the light or a feeling of embarrassment after allowing Marla to caress her breasts like that. Marla released her embrace and took Jennifer's free hand before starting down the hall.

"Just relax sweetheart." This was going to be easier than she'd expected if she could judge by Jennifer's reaction to their embrace in the dark. She was hotter than a pistol and Marla knew exactly how to pull the trigger. She led Jennifer to the living room and directed her to the sofa. Marla noticed that a couple of buttons of Jennifer's blouse had come undone during their brief interlude in the entryway and now those luscious breasts were fully on display. It took all of Marla's restraint to keep from attacking the girl right there on the sofa. She knew from experience that an indirect approach was much more likely to work with a virgin. She settled on the sofa and took Jennifer's hand in hers.

"Do you want a glass of water, or a cup of coffee?" Jennifer smiled sheepishly at her.

"I guess I got a little drunk." Marla laughed.

"Just a little bit and its no problem." Jennifer turned on the sofa to face Marla squarely. She looked incredibly desirable with her hair disheveled, her face flushed, her full lips moist with gloss, her deep-set eyes sparkling. Marla waited as the younger woman seemed to be formulating something important she intended to say. Marla's eyes instinctively lowered to gaze at the full breasts threatening to tumble out of the diminutive brassiere Jennifer wore. Her attention caused Jennifer to glance down and for the first time she was aware of how exposed she was. She giggled.

"You work fast." Jennifer's hands moved awkwardly, her fingers appearing out of control as they reached toward the front of her blouse. Marla felt a wave of disappointment but then something remarkable happened. Rather than button the blouse, Jennifer proceeded to undo the remaining buttons before pulling the blouse free of her slacks. When she had finished she peered up at Marla, that sheepish smile appearing on her face again.

"I thought I'd help." Marla gazed openly at Jennifer's breasts in the exquisitely delicate brassiere. The engorged nipples were plainly visible in the lacey, translucent nylon cups that covered little more than the center of each gorgeous breast. Marla lifted her hand and brushed her fingers across Jennifer's cheek, then down her neck. On impulse she leaned forward and touched her lips to Jennifer's mouth before withdrawing.

"Thank you." Her hand slid behind Jennifer's neck, along her opposite shoulder as she gently pulled the lovely young woman into her embrace. There was no resistance.

"You're really something sweetheart." Marla raised her free hand and slowly spread her fingers over one of Jennifer's lush breasts, deftly sliding the tips into the delicate cup until the heavy mound was cradled in her palm. Both women gazed down at the caressing fingers, at the fully exposed breast, its rigid nipple announcing Jennifer's appreciation of the touch. Again Marla lowered her lips to Jennifer's, this time holding the contact. Jennifer groaned as she returned the kiss, lips softening, then parting against Marla's. This was better than Marla could have dreamed. Their tongues joined in the kiss and quickly the temperature in Marla's small apartment reached the boiling point. Tonight was definitely going to be a night to remember.

Marla gazed down at Jennifer's mouth gently sucking at her breast, lips moving, tongue dancing around the distended nipple. Her lover's fingers were between her thighs, practicing a caress as old as time, one that every woman first learned with herself and only rarely offered to another woman. Jennifer did it perfectly. Marla's fingers were caressing her partner's luscious breasts, waiting patiently until Jennifer worked up the courage to slide those lovely lips and tongue down her body to where those wonderful fingers were making preparations. She'd already tasted Jennifer's sweet pussy, already driven her over the edge of release. It was her turn now and she had confidence Jennifer wouldn't disappoint her.

Marla awoke the next morning delighted that Jennifer lay next to her. She gazed over at the lovely young woman who'd been such a willing pupil during their hours of lovemaking. Marla settled back on her pillow and closed her eyes, her mind once again drifting back to those days when she'd been the pupil and Emily Carlson her teacher. Ms. Carlson taught English and was also the drama coach. That was how they met. Marla was pretty enough and outgoing enough that many people thought she'd go into show business. She caught the bug early and had been in children's theater. It was a natural for her to try out for the senior class play that Ms. Carlson was directing. And Ms. Carlson was more than happy to offer the star of the production private coaching in her lovely apartment not far from the high school.

"You need to project your voice from here." Ms. Carlson stood close behind Marla, one hand squarely in the middle of her back, the other wrapped around and pressing into her belly just below her breasts. They were standing in front of a mirror affixed to the back of the door Ms Carlson closed as they entered the small bedroom that had been converted into an office of sorts. Marla was very serious about her coaching, listening intently to Ms. Carlson's words, eyes staring at the fingers spread over her flat belly. She also was aware of the sensation of breasts pressing into her arm, her mind recalling days in the classroom when the young woman stood by the blackboard speaking to the class while boys around her were whispering about their teacher's sexy figure. Despite her efforts to dress conservatively, there was nothing she could do about the oversized breasts that filled whatever blouse or sweater she chose to wear. Marla glanced at her own breasts reflected in the mirror. She wasn't built like Ms. Carlson, but she was very satisfied with her figure, with her lovely bosom that earned her more than enough attention. She was enough of a flirt to show off her figure every chance she could get.

They'd been meeting privately for a couple of weeks and it was only just beginning to dawn on Marla that Emily touched her in some way every time they spent time alone together. Occasionally it was to offer direction, at other times to share enthusiasm over work done well. Marla enjoyed the attention and even looked forward to the physical intimacy of a hand on her back, an arm around her waist, a hug at the end of their time together. She also appreciated seeing Emily away from school because the lovely young woman was more relaxed in her own home where she dressed in jeans and a tee shirt rather than the more formal attire she wore at school. Af first she'd been shocked to discover exactly how sexy her teacher was in tight jeans and a tee shirt that stretched over those large breasts, which seemed unencumbered by a brassiere. But soon Emily felt more like an older friend, almost like a sister to her, especially as their physical intimacy grew.

"Now when you kiss Tom you have to consider your audience. You can't just turn your head and press your lips together. Here, let me show you." They were in front of the mirror again and Emily was close at her side, her teacher's hand resting on her waist where it swelled out to the roundness of her hip. Marla turned slightly as Emily stepped around her. The next thing she knew the young woman's free hand slid beneath her arm and around her waist as she drew their bodies together. Whatever Emily had hoped to show her suddenly disappeared from her mind as Marla felt those firm breasts against her smaller bosom, felt a leg slide between her thighs. A rush of emotions caught her up and then, to compound the shock soft lips suddenly were against her mouth. It wasn't a kiss exactly, but as close as you could come to one without actually doing it. After a moment Emily stood back.

"See, you can't turn your back to the audience and you don't want to put your partner in that position either. Now look at the mirror as though the audience were sitting there." Once again Emily took Marla into her arms, pressing their bodies even closer together. Marla's eyes were on the mirror but whatever Emily had wanted her to watch for was completely lost as she stared in awe at two women's bodies pressing together in what could only be described as a passionate embrace. Then those full lips were on hers again and her eyes automatically closed. This was a kiss and there was no denying it. Soft lips spread against her own and she could do nothing but respond to the gentle pressure. After what seemed an eternity Emily slowly pulled away. Marla opened her eyes finding Emily in front of her looking more beautiful than she'd ever seemed before, her lips moist from their kiss, her deepset eyes bright, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

They finished their work for the night and Marla walked home in a daze. She wasn't certain whether Emily had just made a pass at her, or if she was simply imagining the whole thing. Sure there was an embrace, even a kiss. But it could have been nothing more than a teaching exercise. Her sleep that night was troubled, as was her hour in Ms. Carlson's class the next day. She kept looking to the beautiful woman in the front of the classroom expecting some sign that a remarkable event had occurred between them the night before. But all she saw was a sensual, voluptuous woman whom she kissed behind a closed door in that small bedroom.

But that night in Emily's home Marla got all the confirmation she ever needed. The moment Marla took off her jacket Emily pulled her into an embrace and those full, glistening lips touched her again. Within only a few moments they were kissing one another passionately. That this desirable creature she was kissing was another woman meant nothing to Marla. The intimacy they'd been creating together over the weeks prepared the way for this sexual encounter. Soon they were on the well worn sofa making out. Emily's hands were on her body, fingers gently caressing her breasts as a wet tongue slid between her parted lips. Marla hardly knew what hit her as she gave herself to this creature who seemed intent on devouring her completely. That, of course, was exactly what happened that night. Marla finally lost her virginity, only to her delight and shock, it was a woman's finger that broke her hymen, not a man's cock. Best of all, however, her pain was lovingly soothed by the slithering tongue and pursed lips that quickly covered her sensitive pussy. What an education that was!




Lipstick Lesbian Treat



Marla lifted the edge of the sheet to gaze at Jennifer's ripe young body. Recalling her adventure with Emily turned her on and she was hungry to make love again with her latest conquest. How fortunate she felt that she'd learned the secrets of loving another woman.



Lipstick



He trailed his fingers up my arms and over my shoulders before plunging down my back to the buttons on my gown. Deftly, he undid each one, then, with a slight tug, pulled the gown from my shoulders. With barely a whisper, slipped to the ground, pooling at my feet. I stood before him in just a slip, my nipples puckered and jutting out through the material. I was acutely aware of everything around me and my faint embarrassment at my body. I wondered if he would find me desirable still. In the next moment, he answered my question without a single doubt. Stepping beside me, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed. Depositing me gently, he began placing light kisses on my skin. The slickness between my legs was now seeping down the inside my thighs. Now I understood why mother told me not to where anything under the slip.

My husband (how I loved the sound of that word) kissed my shoulders, nudging the straps of my slip first off one shoulder, then the other. Slowly working his way down, he pushed my slip farther and farther down till both of my breasts were exposed. I sucked in a sharp breath when he drew one of my nipples into his mouth. Sensations I hadn't known before flowed over my skin. One of his hands dropped onto my thigh and moved upward, lightly over the skin with the softness of a butterfly's wings. I parted my legs slightly and soon found his hand massaging that warm spot between my legs. My hips bucked forward time and again without my telling them to. The room felt hot and my head was spinning. Something was coiled in my stomach and moved around, sending flashes of lightning all over my body. My arms and legs trembled and I felt the urge to scream. As he caressed me, his thumb found someplace hard on my sex and stroked it gently. I nearly jumped out of my skin and then the world exploded. My entire went rigid and the feeling raced outward from my center. Wave after wave of this swept over me. When the sensation was over, I lay there in a daze, barely aware of my husband pulling the slip over my hips and off my body. As I became more attuned to the surroundings, I saw he was sitting on the edge of the bed pulling off his trousers. His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see the one thing I wanted to. I lightly touched his back and he turned his body to face me. I nearly gasped when I saw his member for the first time. Almost hesitantly, I reached out and touched it's hard surface. I thought to myself how good it felt when I wrapped my hand around the base. He leaned over kissing me and pressing me onto my back. Positioning himself over the top of me, he gently removed my hand from him and placed himself at my entrance. All this without breaking our kiss. Slowly and gently, he entered me. So gently in fact, I almost didn't feel it when he took my virginity. A brief flash of discomfort that was gone in a second, replaced by pleasure and a wonderful sense of fullness. I arched my back into him and he shifted his hips back and forth, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in.

Our lips parted and I caught his eyes with mine. There was a look in his eyes that filled my heart with love and thrilled my body to see. A look of tenderness and passion, of warmth and barely controlled animal intensity. He leaned his head forward and again captured one of my nipples in his mouth. Our bodies moved in rhythm with one another, our passions rising. From the depths of my loins, that thing coiled within began to move again. My abdomen tightened and loosened in time with his thrusts. I lifted my hips to meet him and the waves began sweeping over me again. At first it was a gentle lapping tugging at me, but over time, it grew more insistent. It pulled at me, taking me deeper into the pleasure. He moved from nipple to nipple, teasing each with his mouth and tongue. I could feel him expand inside of me and I went over the edge again. The waves turned into a tidal rush that overwhelmed me. I was buffeted by the sensations and I seemed to have no control of my body as it rocked back and forth. He swelled within me one last time and I felt something warm spill into me. I turned to look at one of the candles and fell into the light. It drew me in and I was lifted away…

VIII

With a deep breath, I came back to the present. We still stood by the bed, arms around each other and our bare chests pressed together. I looked in her eyes inquiringly and when she asked where I had been, I told her everything with as much detail as I dared. Her laughter was a silver bell in my ears.

"Who said you had to be the man in every lifetime, lover?" She ran her nails over my chest, sending shivers all through my body. "In fact, who said we had to be a man and a woman?" She said no more than that, leaving me to puzzle it over. I decided it could wait though. With all the had happened so far, it was time for me to take a little control. I spun her to the bed and laid her down. She raised one leg to rub her inner thigh along my hip. I almost lost all my self-control, but kept it with a great amount of effort. Lowering my mouth, I kissed her deeply and intensely. She thrust her tongue back against mine. Sliding my hands down her sides, over her full hips, and down her legs, I made sure they were draped over the side of the bed and her hips were on the edge. Trailing my mouth around her neck and ears, I made my way to her shoulders. Her skin smooth as silk under my lips and creamy to my eyes. I kissed a path to her chest, my mouth working slowly working all around her breasts but avoiding her nipples. Soon I had her writhing upon the bed, using her hands to try and push me closer to her nipples. After teasing her some time, I relented and flicked my tongue over one taut nipple. She gasped and arched her chest. I lowered my head and gently took the tip of her breast in my mouth, rolling my tongue around it. My hands had moved back to her hips and hers ran through my hair. I slid my fingers over her hip and in between her legs, caressing the petals of her sex. As I jumped my mouth from nipple to nipple, I toyed with her entrance, pushing one finger just slightly in, then pulling it free to caress again. Always I avoided that little nubbin of flesh. She moaned beneath me.

Almost tenderly, I inserted my finger knuckle by knuckle, feeling her warmth engulf it. Her hips lifted just little bit as my thumb came to rest on her button. A single sharp intake of breath was followed by a guttural moan. I slowly slid my tongue down her stomach, finally kneeling between her thighs. My finger still firmly embedded within her. I gazed at her sex, fully entranced by the tender beauty of it. Scarcely any hair, there was just a deep red tuft at the top of her slit. Moving my thumb, I could see her clitoris poking it's tiny self from her groove. Her lips swelled outwardly, surrounding the finger I had wiggled inside. Putting my other hand under one thigh, I raised it to my lips, stroking kisses along it. I would get close to the junction between her thighs and then draw away. While I did this, she moaned please for me to stop teasing her. I eased my finger from her canal and placed my hand under her other thigh. Raising that one also, I transferred my lips to that side, doing the same thing. When I got close to her slit, she would lift her hips. On one of those times, I slipped my under her buttocks. I got close enough kissing her thigh, I could feel the hair from her mound tickling my cheekbone.

Overcome by the desire to pleasure her, I placed light kisses all over her lips before extending my tongue and swiping it up the center of her groove. A short cry trembled from her throat. I smile to myself and began making love to her with my mouth. First plunging my tongue into her canal, then wiggling it up to cup her clit. With my hands cupping her cheeks, she used her hands to press my face into her sex. I slipped one of my hands out from under her and reached up to caress one breast, flicking the nipple with my thumb. One of her hands left my head at that and when I glanced up, I saw she was massaging her other breast. Turning my attention back to her thigh and what lay there in between, I flicked my tongue up and down across it. As I continued to play with her button. Her cries grew louder and louder until they were just short of screams. Setting her feet against the floor, she bucked her hips so hard it was all that I could do to keep contact with my tongue. I pulled my other hand free and gently inserted one finger, crooking it to massage her inner walls. After just a few moments of this, her body stiffened and her head rocked back. Her thighs tightened on my shoulders and her fingers dug into my scalp. Once her orgasm swept over her, I re-doubled my efforts to keep her at that level. Time and time again, her body shuddered as another orgasm ripped through her. Soon, she could not take any more and pushed my head away with what little strength she had left. I gently disengaged my mouth and removed my finger.

When I stood, she raised her head and with a weak smile, softly asked me one question. "Lover, what are you doing still wearing those?" I looked down and saw my boxers still tented out, my member throbbing beneath. Hooking my thumbs under the waistband, I quickly stripped them off. My steel hard tool stood out from my body. I climbed onto the bed and lay down beside her, running my thumb along her jaw and admiring her beauty. Her hand crept out and rested palm down on my chest. Sliding it upward, she took hold of the back of my neck, pulling my face in close to kiss me. A simple kiss at first, but one that grew quickly intensity until our tongue were sparring. She trailed her fingernails down my chest and over the expanse of my stomach. Light red marks followed them as she traced patterns on my skin. Lower down, she gripped my shaft and it pulsed in her hand. With a firm pressure, she pumped it up and down with a slow tempo. I couldn't repress the groan as it rose from my throat. She broke the contact of our lips and kissed her way across my chest. Over my stomach, she ran her mouth across the marks her nails had left before coming to my rod. When she started placing her lips along the h\shaft, teasing me with the briefest of contact, I felt that light-headed feeling sweep over me again. I was caught between two worlds. In one, I was reveling in the pleasure she was giving me as she plunged her mouth over me and sucked me deeply. In the other, the pictures were beginning to form again. I fought to hold onto the present moment, but I knew I was losing the struggle. Her head bobbed on me and her hair fell around her face in soft seductive waves. The whole moment took on a surreal quality. Before my open eyes, I could images flash by. When she raised her head to smile at me with that wonderful half-smile, I laid my head back and was gone again…

IX

We lay together, snuggled close under the covers. Morning sunlight was beginning to creep through the window and her nightgown clad body pressed itself tight back against me. She shifted her bottom on my groin and I felt a familiar stirring deep within. Damn, after almost 30 years of marriage, she still knew how to turn me on. That would explain why every morning when I woke up, I was spooning with her. I had one arm around her waist and the other was extended above her head. Of course, who could blame me for getting excited? Even after having two children who were grown now, she still was able to maintain a body most 25-30 year old women would have been envious of. And that body was pressed up against me now, the only thing preventing skin on skin contact was a thin nightgown. Thin? Try almost transparent. In the right light, you could everything through that old material.

I listened to her breathing for a second and knew from that alone she was already awake. Hmm, if she was up for something, I'd have no complaints. From the friction she was giving me, parts of me were definitely up for something. I moved my hand around her waist up her body until I was cupping one of her breasts. When I flicked my thumb over her nipple, I discovered it was already hard. My rapidly swelling member poked out of my pajama bottoms. She must have felt it since she back and adjusted it for me. It jerked under her touch and I heard a small giggle come from her direction. Okay, let's see about heating things a little bit. She knew how to turn me on, but I had a few tricks of my own I could use. Using my chin to move her hair out of the way, I nuzzled her neck briefly before turning my attention to her ear. The minute my lips closed on her lobe, the giggling stopped. Her breathing deepened just a little and I knew I had her. Not that it took that much. Her ears have always been a sensitive place on her, really sensitive. I nibbled over her ear with my lips for a few moments while my hand wandered down her front to caress her thigh through the nightgown. I would come close to where her center of desire waited, then back away. I used the tips of my fingers to trace patterns, casually drawing the hem of her nightgown up. When I could grasp it with my fingers, I pulled it over her hip. Her hand left my member and snaked around to the back of my head. She pulled her ear from my mouth and turned to replace it with it with hr tongue.

Even though our passions were rising with each passing moment, there was nothing hurried about our kiss. We had kissed thousands of times before, but each time there was something new and intense about it. Through the window we could faintly hear a radio playing the latest from Elvis. None of that mattered to us, only this throbbing of our bodies we had felt times before and would no doubt fell again. She melted against me and her gown shifted to her waist, leaving her lower body exposed and free to my explorations. I raised myself on my elbow and continued to kiss her while my hand perused her inner thighs. I would get close enough to her mound to feel the heat emanating from it. She drew her upper body up and crushed her breasts against me. Her hardened nipples dug into my chest. She slid her free hand into my bottoms and gently grasped the base of my shaft. My hand came up and I dragged my fingers through her short hair. After giving me a good squeeze, her hand left my member and she began pushing my bottoms over my hips. I raised up and she half-drug, half-pulled them over my thighs. When she got them to my knees, I took over and kicked them the rest of the off. 

As I fondled her, I felt her slickness coat my hand. My fingers found her lips and stroked them lightly before one plunged inside. My wife moaned into my mouth and reached for my member again. Wrapping her fingers around the shaft, she pulled back on the flesh and my foreskin drew back a little. My wife had always been fascinated by my foreskin. My thumb caressed her clitoris while she stroked me to the edge of climax then back down again. She knows that drives me insane. I tried my best to tease in the same way, but before I could get started, she pulled away. Stopping just long enough to peel her nightgown off and throw it to the floor, she lowered herself to my waist and gazed lovingly up into my eyes for a second. With that, she began kissing all along the shaft, every so often glancing up at me with those beautiful green eyes. Something in the back of my mind chimed, but I ignored it as she slid my tool between her full lips. Her tongue curled around the bottom of my rod. The sensation her mouth was giving made my head spin and I couldn't help but reach out and cup one firm breast in my hand. The was they hung with their bullet hard nipples gave me such delight. She drew herself up until just the head remained in her lips and came back down to take my entire member in. her hand toyed with my testicles and those fingernails of hers gently scratched along the bottom of my scrotum. Every time I felt myself swell with the impending orgasm however, she stopped and let me calm down. 

I couldn't take it any longer and gently took her face in my hands, lifting her from my groin. I guided her face to mine and crushed her mouth to mine. Swinging one leg over, she straddles my hips and ground her entire body against mine. Her skin felt hot on mine. Her groin pressed into my lower stomach and her juices flowed over me. When she raised her from mine, there was a look I had to recognize as pure love and lust, passion and wanting, desire and heat in her eyes. Her hand snaked between us and positioned me at her entrance. Taking her time, she sank down on my shaft. Inch by inch, she took me inside of her until I was buried hilt deep. Waiting only a moment, she sat up with her hands splayed across my chest. Using her leg muscles to the utmost of her ability, she began rising and falling. Clenching her muscles, she milked my member. I merely watched her for a while, enjoying the sight before me. Sweat sent sparkles of light gleaming off her chest. She moved slowly at first, not hurrying, rather enjoying the trip as I was. She leaned over and her nipples dangled before my eyes. Rock hard, they beckoned my attention and I followed. I rose slightly and wrapped my mouth around one of her nubs. Using one arm for balance, I slipped my other hand between our bodies and gently teased her button. She groaned and her movements became more pronounced. Her breathing sounded in my ears as it got deeper and her moans grew louder. The pressure built in my groin until I was on the edge of exploding. Suddenly, my wife cried out in ecstasy as the orgasm swept over her. She clenched down on my organ and that was all it took to send me over the edge. I loosed her nipple from my mouth and let my head fall back as my climax spilled into her. Behind my closed eyes, the sunlight brightened and I rose to it…

X

When my eyes adjusted again, I was back in my own skin and in my apartment with her lying beside me and her hand wrapped around my shaft. I turned my head and looked into her eyes as I took a deep breath to steady myself. With a trembling hand, I touched the side of her face lightly, drawing it close enough to kiss. Our mouths crushed together and I felt I was in danger of her stealing my very breath. Her tongue traced the inside of my teeth and sparred with my own tongue. Drawing away slowly, she searched my eyes with those green orbs of hers. Finding a new depth of understanding, though with many questions left unanswered, she merely smile and tugged on my stick.

"Ready for the next act, lover?" she asked in a husky erotic tone that made parts of me, already painfully hard, swell just a little bit more. The question flashed through my mind, was it indeed possible to get hard enough to split the foreskin. Her leg wormed it's way over my hips until she was straddling me, her hand never leaving my rod. Gently, she rubbed the head along her nether lips, moistening it, readying it. Placing it at the entrance, she lowered herself just enough for the tip to enter, but no more than that. Holding herself there for a moment, she kept herself still before impaling herself. She drew me in deeper and deeper, the heat feeling as a furnace on my skin. Our hips bumped together and she ground against me for a second, then stilled her body. Everything but for the muscles gripping my shaft, which she worked, milking me and driving me insane with the sensation. Her breasts bobbed over my chest, grazing my nipples with hers. On impulse, I bent my head and latched onto one of those puckered pieces of flesh. Alabaster skin surrounded the rosy tip as I teased it with my tongue. A moan started somewhere deep in her throat and carried itself past her lips to fall on my ears. Her hips raised a tiny bit, then fell again. Her fingers tangled in my hair and drew me tighter against her.

My hands slipped around to caress her back. Through all of this, my head was spinning as if I were caught in a whirlwind, a tornado of passion. Yet, for all that had happened to bring me to this point, I wouldn't trade it. She worked her body on mine increasing fervor, her hair falling about her face and draping across my shoulders. My hands slipped down her spine to grip one cheek in each, guiding her hips as they pistoned over me. Her moans quickly became cries of delight and shudders wracked her body time and time again. Every so often, she would slow down her movements. Whether this was to prolong the moment or simply to catch her breath, I couldn't tell. I only knew that if I didn't find release soon, my body would ignite into flames, my heart would explode, my brain would melt, and I would generally go insane.